


Tomorrow

by Asphodehl



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Frottage, Grand Prix Final Banquet, M/M, Post-Banquet, Public Hand Jobs, drunk!Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9208796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asphodehl/pseuds/Asphodehl
Summary: Viktor helps a hapless Yuuri back to his room, but Yuuri isn't keen on letting his idol leave.Another episode 10 banquet fic, because I can't get enough of them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So uh, this is a new AO3 as this is a fairly steep departure from what I normally write and I'm embarrassed my followers will not like it. I haven't written smut in like 7 years so please be gentle with me :') I have a tumblr/do art (including some yoi stuff), message me on asphodehl.tumblr.com (my nsfw blog) for the username~

“A little help, Yuuri?”

Even with the drunken man’s arm slung over his shoulder, bearing the brunt of his weight, Viktor still struggled to get Yuuri Katsuki to the hotel elevators. His dexterity from his pole dancing routine long since dissipated, Yuuri had simply clung needily to Viktor’s side for the remainder of the evening. As the banquet guests had begun to thin out and no one seemed to be coming to collect the disoriented Japanese man, Viktor had taken it upon himself to ensure he made it back to his room in one piece.

“Viktooor,” Yuri whined, swaying as he made frustratingly tiny steps with unsure feet, leaning heavily into the other man. His tie was still securely fastened around his head, his dress shirt buttoned crooked with several buttons skipped while others were fastened entirely too high. An attempt was made to put his pants back on, though that attempt resulted in only his belt being partially fastened, neither the button nor the zipper secured in its proper place. Initially Viktor had draped Yuuri’s suit jacket over his shoulders, but after it repeatedly slipped off the swaying man he opted to simply hold it in the arm wrapped around Yuuri’s waist.

“Viktooor,” he fussed a second time, kicking a leg out in front of himself uselessly, “I can’t walk.” The arm across Viktor’s shoulders tensed as though Yuuri were attempting to pull himself up higher. “Carry me, Viktooor.”

At this point, carrying him seemed to be the more efficient option. Crouching down briefly, Viktor tightened his grip around Yuuri’s waist, letting go of the arm held over his shoulders to scoop up his legs bridal style. Yuuri let out a gleeful cheer as Viktor straightened up and carried him at a much more respectable pace towards the elevator, resting his head against the older man’s shoulder. “Viktooor,” he sing-songed again, drawing out his name with every call, “I love youuu.”

This made Viktor chuckle quietly to himself, no stranger to confessions of love from people he hardly knew. “Yes, I love you too,” he placated. From the corner of his eye Viktor saw Yuuri’s face change, wrinkling his nose and widening his eyes in a look of dismay.

“Nooo, you don’t get it!”

Yuuri flung his head back dramatically, the sudden shift in weight nearly causing Viktor to drop him. Tensing quickly to secure his hold on the man, Viktor set him down gently in front of the elevator doors and pressed the button. He kept a firm hold on Yuuri who pouted, but leaned into him once again while they waited. As soon as the doors opened Viktor stepped in, nearly dragging Yuuri in along with him before the doors could close on the incapacitated skater.

“What floor are you on?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to speak, but stopped, seeming to be in deep thought. He closed his mouth and pursed his lips thoughtfully, as though considering his options.

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I don’t know my room number,” Yuuri repeated, staring blankly at the buttons. Viktor began to reprimand him when Yuuri spoke again, “I guess you’ll have to take me to your room.”

The casual decision and the matter-of-fact delivery made Viktor furrow his brow.

“What?” he asked a second time, bewildered. Ordinarily, it wasn’t a request he would outright deny, but it was obvious to him and anyone within a hundred foot radius that Yuuri was absolutely shitfaced. He couldn’t take any pride in bringing a man like that back to his room, and Viktor Nikiforov was nothing if not poud. Yuuri hugged Viktor’s side tight, bouncing up and down lightly in a manner that made him immediately concerned that Yuuri’s pants, which were barely hanging on to begin with, might fall to the floor of the elevator.

“Take me hoooome, Viktooor!”

But if he couldn’t remember his room number, where else could he go? Viktor frowned, trying to formulate a plan while the other man humped his leg. He could take him to the front desk, where they could look up his room number. But he didn’t want to embarrass the poor kid. He could let him sleep in his bed, but where would he sleep then? With every bounce Yuuri rubbed against Viktor’s side until the Russain’s prediction came true, and the precariously fastened pants slipped off his hips and around his ankles.

“Oops~”

Though Yuuri had spent the better half of the evening without pants or a shirt, something about the man’s trousers around his ankles before him in the otherwise empty elevator made Viktor’s cheeks flush slightly, and he averted his eyes much to Yuuri’s dismay.

“Yuuri,” he chided, keeping his eyes focused on the floor as he crouched down to grab Yuuri’s pants. Yuuri swayed slightly as Viktor tugged his pants back up, making sure to properly zip and button them this time around. From his new vantage point knelt down before him, the excitement in Yuuri’s briefs did not go unnoticed, but something else that had fallen out of the man’s pants pocket drew Viktor’s attention to the floor of the elevator.

Picking up the card from the floor Viktor righted himself, turning it over to find it to be a room key card, a room number written on a sticky note stuck to the front. Yuuri’s face immediately fell, looking at the ground like a child caught in a lie.

“What’s this, Yuuri?” Viktor asked, flashing the card to the man who refused to look at it. “R631, that sounds like a room number, doesn’t it?” he smiled wryly, pressing the button for the sixth floor.

Yuuri only pouted, leaning back against the wall of the elevator. “I forgot,” he mumbled, though it was clear to Viktor at this point that it was a lie. Perhaps if he hadn’t had a few drinks in him himself then he would have caught on to Yuuri’s ruse more quickly.

When the elevator doors opened Viktor once again slung Yuuri’s arm over his shoulders, helping him out into the hallway, heading towards signs pointing towards rooms 600-650. Yuuri swung in front of him abruptly, wrapping both his arms around Viktor’s neck to stabilize himself.

“Aren’t you gonna carry me?” he asked, looking up at Viktor through dark lashes. Viktor simply smirked.

“I think you’re perfectly capable of making it. It’s just down the hall, and I’ve got you.”

Yuuri scowled dramatically, but turned around and began to walk. He was still unsteady and slow, but not struggling quite as much has he had been downstairs, indicating to Viktor that perhaps that had been another scheme. As ridiculous as it all was, he had to admit it was kind of cute. Despite it all, as promised, Viktor held onto him until they stood outside the door marked 631. 

“There you go, you made it,” Viktor congratulated with a small smile, passing the dark haired man his suit jacket and key card and giving him a chaste kiss to the forehead, a small consolation prize. Yuuri stared blankly down at the key card, and as he raised it to the door the piece of plastic slipped out from his fingers and onto the carpeted floor. Another trick, Viktor surmised much more quickly this time. Surely Yuuri would bend over to pick up the key in some salacious way in an attempt to get him to stay the night.

“Nice try, Yuuri,” Viktor laughed, stooping down to pick up the card before Yuuri had a chance. As soon as he stood once again, moments from inserting the card, he was pressed abruptly into the door by a suddenly very assertive Yuuri. Yuuri grabbed the wrist of the hand with the card and twisted the arm behind Viktor’s back, and it was Viktor’s turn to drop the card in surprise.

Viktor turned to peek back at Yuuri over his shoulder with a breathy laugh. “Yuuri,” he reprimanded without much conviction. Yuuri didn’t let up, instead pressing in tighter against him and beginning to grind his pelvis into his backside. Wasn’t this type of thing supposed to happen on the other side of the door? “Yuuri,” Viktor spoke up again, slightly more serious this time though he was unable to hide the flush tinting his cheeks again. “Come on, you need rest.”

Yuuri’s eyes were narrowed with an intensity Viktor didn’t think he’d ever see on the mild mannered man, and his dark eyes stared at him long and hard. “If I let you go...if you open the door you’ll leave.” The pained tone in his voice took Viktor by surprise yet again, and he furrowed his brows.

“Yuuri…?”

The man’s grinding hips continued, and the hand not holding Viktor’s arm behind his back snaked around Viktor’s torso, tracing his nails down along his stomach and down to his crotch, grabbing him roughly. Viktor’s breath hitched in his throat, and his back arched instinctively, pressing his ass back against Yuuri’s thirsty hips. His fingers deftly kneaded between his legs, and Viktor’s captive hand tightened into a fist while his free hand attempted to grip against the smooth surface of the door.

“You’re getting hard,” Yuuri remarked with a kind of innocent awe, as though he were surprised at the outcome. 

For the upteenth time, Viktor found himself surprised. He peeked back over his shoulder at Yuuri again, trying to get a read on his expression which seemed to be a mix of drunken amusement and childlike wonder. “...so are you,” he replied with a small smile as Yuuri continued to drive his clothed hardon against his rear.

Yuuri fondled him through his pants experimentally, squeezing along the sides of his length as though attempting to get a feel for his girth. “You’re smaller than I imagined.”

Viktor was taken aback at how much this declaration stung, and he laughed weakly, hanging his head. “You’re a cruel man, Yuuri Katsuki,” he breathed, trying not to reveal his wounded pride. 

It seemed the remark sparked some awareness in him, as Yuuri abruptly pressed down to shower Viktor’s back with kisses, nuzzling against his expensive suit jacket. “No, no, Viktor! You are perfect,” he murmured, moving up to kiss the back of his neck. “I always imagined you would be huge...too big for me to fit.”

This declaration was the biggest surprise of all, and for the first time Viktor pushed back off the door, turning his shoulders to get a better look at the man behind him. “Pardon...?” Seizing the opportunity, Yuuri flipped Viktor around so his back now hit the door. He immediately pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of his neck, his hands working quickly to loosen Viktor’s tie and pulling aside the collar of his shirt to continue the onslaught of kisses further. 

“I’ve fantasized about you for years,” Yuuri purred against his skin, now grinding needily against Viktor’s throbbing cock. “I have all your posters up in my room…” he traced his fingertips with light flighty touches down Viktor’s back before slipping into his pants, eliciting a quiet gasp, “I look at them when I touch myself.” His fingers curled around the soft skin of Viktor’s ass. Viktor groaned softly, tilting his head back as Yuuri nibbled on his neck and feeling a burning heat tightening in his gut at the intimate admission. 

Yuuri’s nibbles suddenly matured to a full on bite at the juncture of Viktor’s neck and shoulder, harsh enough that he visibly winced, his hands flying up to Yuuri’s shoulders and gripping him tightly. In his drunken stupor Yuuri didn’t seem to notice the excessive force of his bite until he began to suck, noticing a faint metallic taste that made him pull back and lick his lips.

“Oh...sorry,” he mumbled, face turning redder as he pressed an apologetic kiss to the small wound.

“It’s okay,” Viktor laughed weakly, relaxing his grip on Yuuri’s shoulders and instead resting his forearms over them.

Yuuri’s lips pressed repeated quick pecks to Viktor’s neck while his hand kneaded his muscular ass between his fingers, drawing out a quiet sigh as Viktor seemed, for the first time, to be resigning himself to the situation. “I guess,” Yuuri began, “I’m just excited.” He pulled Viktor’s hips forward to increase the friction between them. With some hesitation, Viktor began to return the motion, grinding against him with a roll of his hips and letting his hands run down over Yuuri’s chest. Slowly, whether out of practiced seduction or simply drunkenness, Yuuri leaned in to whisper in Viktor’s ear. “I’ve been saving myself for you.”

Viktor’s hips stopped abruptly, his hands pushing Yuuri back slightly to get a better look at him with wide blue eyes. “You what?” The thought that Yuuri was inexperienced had scarcely crossed his mind with the way the other man had relentlessly pursued him. Suddenly his resolve to get him securely inside the hotel room returned.

“I’m all yours, Viktooor,” he whined his name again, now slipping a second hand into Viktor’s pants and pulling him close. He increased the speed of his hips, throwing back his head and groaning while Viktor’s hands tightened on Yuuri’s shirt, pressing his lips into a thin line to prevent any sound from escaping his mouth.

Just down the hall, the elevator dinged. The sound made Viktor tense, but Yuuri didn’t seem to notice as there wasn’t even a moment of hesitation in his pace. “Yuuri,” he began calmly, his voice hiding his distress much more effectively than his expression, “Someone is coming. Please.”

“Let them see,” Yuuri replied with deadly sweetness. The sound of footsteps approaching quickened Viktor’s heart rate, and as the shadow of the figure came into view he did the only thing he could think of. Without a second thought both hands cupped Yuuri’s face, pulling him close and into a bruising kiss, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears in a vain attempt to obscure his own face. Yuuri’s eyes went wide while Viktor’s screwed shut, his ears listening intently as the steps grew closer.

“You’ve got a room, use it!” An angry voice shouted down the hall, “Idiot!” Viktor didn’t dare open his eyes or pull back from the kiss even as the footsteps faded from earshot. Yuuri didn’t seem inclined to pull away either, his tongue brushing past Viktor’s lips and pressing his whole body into him with surprising force. Viktor’s eyes finally opened as the constant rhythm of Yuuri’s hips began to stutter, and he found himself swallowing a loud moan as Yuuri came. His fingernails dug into Viktor’s ass as he rode out his climax, and he slowed to a stop, breaking from the kiss just far enough to breathe, a soft whine on his lips.

“Viktor…”

The blue eyed man simply stared with some mix of shock and awe, finally removing his hands from Yuuri’s face and brushing his silver hair back off his forehead which he only now realized was dappled with sweat. With a stabilizing sigh he leaned his head back against the door, barely holding back a laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Okay Yuuri, now you need to wash and get some rest,” he insisted, for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. He made a move to side-step out from between Yuuri and the door, but the dark haired man grabbed ahold of his arm with a vicegrip.

“Viktor.”

The expression on Yuuri’s face made his stomach flip, intense and erotic with the flush of his cheeks and the glisten on his lips. Viktor instinctively licked his lips and swallowed as his mouth felt suddenly dry. “Why don’t you look like this when you skate?” he asked, half as a joke and half as a legitimate critique.

“I could, if I knew you were watching me,” Yuuri said simply. “You’ll coach me, right?”

Viktor laughed softly, “Sure, I suppose I owe you,” he flashed a charming smile and made another move to make his leave, but Yuuri’s hold didn’t let up, and the drunken man blocked his exit by pressing his other hand against the door beside Viktor’s head.

“You can’t go.”

It sounded like a command more than a plea this time.

“I owe you, too.”

Yuuri began to crouch down before him and in a flash of realization Viktor grabbed ahold of his shoulders firmly, “No no no, Yuuri,” now it was Viktor’s turn to plead, pulling Yuuri back up. “I can’t let you do that, not like this.” He swallowed hard, grabbing Yuuri’s chin and pressing a tender kiss to his pouting lips. “Come see me in the morning, okay? I’m in room 705. Please.” 

He flushed slightly, his voice sounding more desperate than he intended. Yuuri’s gaze moved from Viktor’s eyes down to the hard bulge still straining against his pants. “What about now?” he asked quietly, pressing a leg in between Viktor’s and brushing against his cock with his thigh.

A mirthful laugh escaped Viktor’s lips, “I’ll be fine. I know how to handle it.” Without another word Yuuri’s flingers deftly unbuttoned Viktor’s slacks and slipped inside his briefs, leaning in close.

“So do I,” he breathed, beginning to stroke up his length with a light drag from his fingernails.

Viktor gasped, clasping a hand over his mouth instinctively as Yuuri’s fingers curled around him with a firmer grip, pumping along his length insistently.

“Yuuri...please,” it was supposed to sound exasperated, but instead came out dripping with arousal. Yuuri hummed contentedly, biting his own lip with an impish grin.

“Please what?”

Viktor grabbed ahold of a tuft Yuuri’s hair at the back of his head and pulled his lips to his own, kissing him with something that felt like desperation. The pace of Yuuri’s hand quickened, dragging his thumb across Viktor’s slit every few strokes.

The kiss broke with a wet smack and Viktor pressed his forehead to Yuuri’s breathing heavily. “Please come to my room in the m-morning,” he clarified, his voice catching in his throat as Yuuri’s thumb worked over him again.

Yuuri smirked, twisting his wrist as he continued, “I wish I could take a photo of you like this,” he purred. The idea simultaneously aroused and terrified him, then again so did the thought of getting a handjob from a competitor in the hotel hallway. 

“Tomorrow,” he insisted again, feeling the pressure building as he neared climax and his thoughts became increasingly scattered and erratic. “We can take photos tomorrow. I’ll pose for you, I’ll fuck you, I’ll let you fuck me, I’ll take all the commemorative photos you want, whatever you’d like, Yuuri,” he blabbed desperately. No sooner had Yuuri’s name passed his lips than he came hard over his hand, which continued pleasuring him through his climax. 

Gentle fingers teased his sensitive head through the high, and the satisfied smile on Yuuri’s face gradually relaxed into one of awe. Viktor slumped back against the door to catch his breath while Yuuri removed his cum-covered hand from Viktor’s briefs. The dark-eyed man looked at his hand with wonder, and much to Viktor’s dismay he raised his fingers to his lips and licked off a healthy dollop experimentally.

“...why?” was all Viktor could manage to ask as his heart-rate began to fall back to its normal speed.

“I wanted to know what you taste like,” Yuuri said simply, crouching down to pick up his key card with his clean hand and swaying slightly as he stood, Viktor placing a steadying hand on his waist and stepping away from the door.

“705?” he asked, the number meaning nothing to Viktor for a split second.

“Yes.”

Yuuri smiled slightly, a private, contented smile as he slid the keycard into the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”


End file.
